


Divine Intervention.

by SlySama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Locked-in, M/M, New Corridors, New Rooms, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Pining, Sentient Castle, Unknown Magic, Vague Sex Details, frustrations, unstable magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: Harry finds a new room inside the hallowed hallways of Hogwarts.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Divine Intervention.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

If only there was **somewhere** he could go to just… ** _Get away_** from everything and **everyone** ; it was so… **Suffocating**. He couldn’t **BREATHE**!

‘I said I’m fine! Just…Just give me some space!’ He couldn’t help the shout that raced out from his burning chest and right up out of his clenching throat. He bit his lip harshly afterwards, digging sharp teeth down into the supple flesh, as he drew in sorely needed breath and closed his eyes to the immediate awkward silence, the gaping maws, and the enlarged eyes.

‘…Harry…’

He shook his head at the softly spoken name, hands clenched in his trousers. He quickly rushed from the room, dodging other exempted students that called **this** common room theirs too. He was sure his shoulder caught on someone else as he scrambled through the portrait guarded doorway.

‘Oi!’

He kept going, ignoring the echoing shouts as he rounded the straight hallway onto another one. His shoes were heavy but quick on his feet, as they took him hurriedly **as far away** as he could have gotten, **inside** the castle, away from everybody.

His breaths were coming in pants, his chest was burning and the hand scrunching in his shirt fabric did nothing to appease that terrible ache, of seemingly not breathing for the last several minutes.

‘Nn Hah! Nn Hah! Nn hah!’

He stuttered to a stop abruptly, doubling over, smashing his shoulder into a corridor wall completely devoid of portraits or tapestries; which was odd. He blinked a moment, breathing heavy, eyes watering at the painful inhales and exhales. Distractions were good, this could be a good distraction.

Breathe.

Breathe.

In. out. In. out.

Inhale; One. Two. Three. Four

Exhale.

INHALE; One. Two. Three. 

**_I hate panic attacks!_**

Exhale.

His unfocused, blurred eyes flickered open to look around him. It wasn’t a corridor he had been to before, in fact, since it didn’t have any twittering, jibing, snoozing portraits, **or** any tapestries lining it, then maybe **no** **body** had been here before?

There were cobwebs too, small spiders spinning their intricate iron webs, trapping, and devouring any insects foolish enough to come too close.

The lighting was dim, barely existent; a mere dull glow above him. He started to breathe a little easier, distancing himself from the bare wall. His hand didn’t leave it however as he stared around himself; ‘Where am I?’ He frowned fiercely. He didn’t think he’d walked **that** far. Certainly not far enough to wind up in a completely different corridor.

One that was seemingly untraveled? Forgotten? or **New**? There **had** been some new halls and rooms popping up around the old castle; so he'd heard anyway. Apparently someone had fallen through the floor of a **still damaged** wing of the castle and had been trapped in a new one, last week; he thought. 

He hadn't fallen through anything though... 

He walked slowly, one hand to the wall, his other drifting down to the wand tucked inside a new gifted hip holster; swashbuckling, Ginny had said. Apparently, she thought it made him look like a pirate; if he had a sword anyway. He’d laughed, because at one point, he had. Now, Godric Gryffindor’s sword was no where to be seen, forgotten, and hidden; until the next time a young Gryffindor would be in need of it; presumably.

He sighed heavily, following the corridor down; it wasn’t getting any shorter. There were still no portraits, no tapestries. Only the dull light flickering above him in the wavering of uncertain magic; **his** magic.

It had been a bit…

 **Jumpy** , and **itchy** , and frankly quite scarily **unstable** recently. At least since his defeat of old snake bastard, after he’d died once more, after he’d saved thousands, after his magic had taken flight as a giant icy soaring Phoenix and protected those that would have otherwise died without it.

He knew there were so many people thankful to him for that, but quite a number of others that were frightened at his power, frightened at how overwhelmingly strong it was, how he had even taken down Voldemort at 17; though they'd forced that. He knew they were wary of him **turning** into the next Dark Lord. He’d laugh at the absurdity, but he was scared himself, not that he would become anything like Voldemort. He would **never**. But he worried he wouldn’t be able to control his magic one day, that one day, **it** would control **him**.

He shuddered a moment, pausing on his trek. The shiver raced up and down his spine with intensity; there was a sudden alarming breeze that couldn't have **possibly** been there, considering there were no windows in the lonely corridor. His arm hairs stood on end and quickly spread with goose-flesh as he gasped at the sharp chill beyond and a foreign magic **propelling** him along the corridor. 

‘Where?’ He whispered, hands out before him, throat gone dry.

‘ **Hn**!’ His eyes immediately closed as his body drew close and fast to what looked like a closed door. **_Oh god! Please open! HAH!_** His eyes were so tightly screwed shut that he hadn’t realised his body had come to a screeching halt and that there was a heaviness on his shoulders as if someone had pulled him back in the nick of time; his nose was **just** touching the centre of the thick wood door.

‘Nn hah! Nn Hah! Nn hah!’ Taking large gulping breaths, shuddering, wiping his sweaty brow and sweaty palms, he took a cautious step **back** from the new addition to the unknown corridor.

**_Okay._**

**_Okay?_** He turned slowly, doing a quick full turn on a heel. His eyes roamed the entire space, floor, walls, to ceiling. There was no one there. The corridor walls were **still** empty. The lights were still dim and barely existent. **There. Was. No one. There.** The magic was even gone. Finishing his turn, he stared apprehensively at the heavy grooved doorway.

 _ **Hm.**_ Hand inching toward it, all self-preservation, all “Constant Vigilance”, everything, it went down the toilet. His wand stayed in the hip holster; his throat closed beyond the heavy puffs of newly chilled air. His fingers enclosed on the brass door handle…and turned.

**WOOSH**

He was momentarily blinded as a bright interior light beamed out. The air inside was warm and fresh and smelt strangely flowery and fruity. He stepped inwards, letting the door unconsciously close. ‘Wow.’ He whispered. It didn’t look like a room at all. Where he’d thought would have been stone or floorboards, tiles perhaps, was grass. Soft, luxurious, **green** **grass**. He shucked his shoes and socks. It slid between his toes, folded beneath his feet, and bounced right back when he stepped forward.

There were large, abundantly green leafed and flowering trees; they swayed to the warm breeze filtering in, in the seemingly **wall-less** room. It looked like green rolling hills of grass went for miles, stretching way beyond what he **thought** would have been ordinary walls; there didn’t appear to be a ceiling either, or at least, it mimicked the great hall so well, better even, that it didn’t.

The light inside here was dim too but thousands of tiny sparkling lights lit up the darkness of the “sky”; like stars. ‘Wow.’ He reverently spoke again. ‘I could get used to **this**. Peaceful. It doesn’t **look** dangerous…’ He was mumbling now, taking himself over to the nearby tree and leaning back against its trunk.

He thought he began to doze...

[ ][ ][ ]

He snapped awake; something had woken him. Startled him. ‘What…’ He fell abruptly, hitting his head on something hard and unyielding, something…He blinked rapidly, pushing himself into a standing position. Turning on the spot he did a full circuit inspection of the room; it was dark, the glittering stars were still noticeable above…But there were no trees, no grass, no twittering from birds or sprites, or whatever it might have been earlier, there was no calming tranquility; it was gone. All of it.

The door, which had seemed to meld into the scenery, was back. Dark, heavy, well-grooved with its brass handle. He blinked again.

‘What happened?’ He said aloud.

Walking over to the door, which **now** didn’t seem that far away, he tried to turn the doorknob only to find, it was only turning in his grasp, that’s all, turning. The door wasn’t opening.

He rattled the doorknob. He grasped at the knob; hard. He pulled, he pushed, he grappled with the entire frame; it didn’t budge.

He startled to panic. ‘Nn hah. Nn hah. Nn hah.’

Breathe. Breathe.

It's Locked?

I'm Stuck?

‘ **Why the hell did you lock me in here?!** ‘ He suddenly screamed, unsure **who** he was screaming at. Be it himself, or the magic imbued breeze that had pushed him from the corridor?

**_Out. Out. Out. Out._ **

**_Let me out!_ **

Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. 

BREATHE. One. Two. Three.

He clutched at himself, both arms wrapping around his ribcage. His lids tightly closed; his body dropped heavily to the ground, just barely staying upright on his knees. **_Ow._** They were bruised now of course, the ground beneath them no longer grass but hard unyielding stone.

He had no idea how long he sat there like that, huddled in on himself, trying to breathe through another panic attack, trying to ignore the way his magic zinged through his veins and electrified his nerve endings.

**_What?_**

**_What?!_ **

**_What do you want?!_ **

[ ][ ][ ]

Later found himself, yet still locked inside the new room. He had no idea how much time had past since he’d been locked away, there was no clock, no moon, no possible way to find out; his magic refused a “Tempus”.

Perhaps, time even moved differently here?

Who would know?

He had shifted from the doorway in some vain hope it might unlock itself. He moved away from it for a while; it had not. Now, he sat, rocking slightly against a wall that had not previously been there, in a new interior, that had not previously been there.

Under him was carpet; soft, fluffy, grey.

The walls were painted with light pastel tones, adorned with shadow decals of what seemed to be a forest and it’s woodland creatures.

There was a new section; he hadn’t dared to check it.

He was getting a bit uncomfortable; his bladder was heavy, full. He shifted uncomfortably, leg muscles spasming, body twitching, bladder threatening. He swallowed anxiously, standing, biting down hard on his lower lip as he decided, **_why not?_ **; he didn’t particularly **want** to piss on the floor, and advanced on the new room.

The door was not **entirely** dissimilar to the one that refused to reopen; however, **this** brass handle allowed him entrance into what, with a blessed sigh, was a spacious bathroom. 

‘Hahhhhhhhhh.’ He closed his eyes in relief as he relieved himself in the loo. He shook a few times. He flushed properly. He placed the toilet lid back down, he used the flower scented foaming soap on the sink top, he washed his hands in the large bowled sink, he used the fluffy peach coloured handtowel, and then debated whether to use the shower; He did, quickly shucking his clothes and stepping under **perfectly** warmed and **perfectly** pressured water, with the **perfect** mildly scented body soap. It was all very…Domestic.

But at least he wasn’t having a panic attack anymore.

_[ ][ ][ ]_

‘What are you doing, Potter?’

Harry’s whole body jerked as he gasped and turned. ‘Malfoy? How did you get in here?!’ His words were harsh, spat into the room.

The blonde’s brows drew down, his hand swishing his wand. ‘Followed the “Point me” obviously. Everyone’s looking for you, you’ve been gone since yesterday evening you know.’ ‘So…What are you doing?’ A brow rose and the corner of a plump lip quirked upwards.

‘…Distraction.’ He mumbled, on his feet in seconds. Suddenly aware the blonde was actually in the room. His bits were on full view, since he was naked, had been now for a while; he’d been edging himself into distracted oblivion—nothing else to do.

His cock was hard, full, and thick, the head purpling and the veins bulging as it bounced at a heavy step. His balls swung softly beneath them; the room probably smelt quite heavily of musk. ‘Did you shut the door?’ He asked, his voice an octave higher, one hand outstretched.

‘…Uh, yeah?’ Malfoy frowned at him, but Harry noticed distractedly that the grey eyes were staring blatantly at his package.

‘What?!’ Harry screeched. ‘No!’ He swore colourfully that the blonde teen’s pale pointy features flushed scarlet, as he quickly backed away from the hurriedly approaching full, tanned, raven.

His hands tried the handle. No use. ‘Fuck!’ He spat, kicking the door then swearing because he likely broke a toe. ‘Malfoy!’ He whipped around, cock slapping against his stomach; it was still hard.

Malfoy swallowed, hurriedly backing up again. Eyebrows high. ‘Yes?’ He said, wary. ‘Should I not have? There was a cold breeze.’

‘It’s locked!’ He screamed. ‘It was locked! Malfoy! I was stuck in here!! Now we’re **BOTH** stuck!!’ He groaned then, the burn returning in his chest.

‘What? Woh, Woh, what are you talking about? What are you doing?!’ Malfoy’s voice rose, panic rising when he saw Harry’s panic.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

‘Distr…distrac…distraction…’ He huffed, hand vainly pushing.

‘…Distraction? Huh?’ A pause. ‘You mean from the attack?’

Harry wheezed.

‘Oh!! Yes! Okay. Um!’ The wand clattered to the ground; the taller male physic rushed toward Harry and they were kissing. Bruising, harsh, dominating. It was a kiss Harry had never had, and very much enjoyed.

He moaned wantonly, grappling at the blonde’s clothes. He gripped and pulled and tore the fabric in several places just **trying** to get the blonde out of his clothes. ‘Mm! mm! mm! Nn! Off!’ He whined when they refused to budge.

Malfoy froze, a hairs breath away, then snickered. ‘Really?’

‘Please.’ Harry begged.

‘Yes?’

‘Please. Off!’

The blonde gasped when he found himself sans material seconds later.  
‘Did you just—

‘Malfoy.’ He huffed, hand reaching upwards to grasp the blonde around the neck and pull him back in for another bruising punishing kiss. His other hand reaching for the blonde’s hand, he grasped it, not letting it go, and forcefully pressed it to his aching hardness. ‘Shut up and distract me!’

…The ache had almost **immediately** retreated; but Malfoy didn’t need to know that particular detail… **Quite** yet.

He barked a laugh, pressing his long thin fingers down on the wickedly smooth ridged iron rod. ‘God.’ He whispered. ‘Yes sir.’ He groaned, pushing them down flat on the ground, lining his body up with Harry’s.

It was glorious.

Malfoy’s cock was just as hard, just as smooth; amazing, as they ground their cocks into each other, using each other’s pre-come to slick the glide.

They were both so into each other, both so into **FINALLY** getting off on each other, that neither one of them noticed the echo of a “click”; the door unlocking.

Who ever said an old sentient castle, couldn’t be meddling? 


End file.
